


The Best One-Night Stand on the Citadel

by AceQueenKing



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Alcohol, F/F, Hook-Up, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 12:53:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11692038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceQueenKing/pseuds/AceQueenKing
Summary: Ryder needs to unwind, and Shepard wastes no time in getting her what she needs.





	The Best One-Night Stand on the Citadel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sumi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sumi/gifts).



Sara rarely drank on the Citadel.

It was a bit too close to home; you never knew where someone mom or dad knew was watching. Scott, too, tended to have leave at the same time she did: which meant there was another spy on the Citadel that might report home to Dad.

And she really didn’t want anyone to report on her drinking, because she needed it today.

She was tightly wound today. She couldn’t shake an odd feeling of doom that had felt heavy on her as she handled a Prothean artifact transfer; perhaps she had read a few too many horror stories about Eden Prime. She’d kept an eye out for Geth despite Commander Shepard's heroic victory; one never knew where one would find stragglers.

But Sara had not found any stragglers. She hadn’t ever had a chance to get rid of the tension    on her shoulders, and now she wanted to either get drunk or get laid; preferably both.

She headed to the Embassy Lounge; quiet, alliance friendly thanks to its closeness to the Human Councilor’s offices. Plus, Jake liked her and Scott, and she drank for free.

And on a Scout’s salary, she definitely appreciated drinking for free.

The bar was surprisingly packed today; mostly human, which wasn’t novel, but nearly all of them were surreptitiously glancing at the bar, which was. Since her free drink access depending on being close to the bartender, she sidled up to the bar, where a glamorous amazon with bright red hair was nursing a Scotch with the last two chairs near her sitting empty.

Sara slid into one of them and flashed Jake her best smile. “Whiskey, neat?”

“Ah, Ms. Ryder.” He grinned, putting down the bar rag and immediately pulling a drink off the high shelf. “You’re back from the colonies!”

“Yeah, for the time being.” She cracked her neck, surreptitiously glancing at the woman she was sitting next to, who was turned toward the other side of the bar at the moment. She was cute; muscular figure with a generous form; she was tall, broad, and Sara felt like she could climb her like a tree. And wanted to.

Jake smiled. “Still thinking about that Initiative nonsense?”

“Of course,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Why wouldn’t I want to go to another galaxy? It’s not like there’s a lot for me here.”

Truth was, she wasn’t entirely sure she was okay with moving to Heleus. Dad had truly drunk Jien Garson’s kool-aid, and Scott was all but begging to go. Even mom, sick as hell, had asked them to go, to explore new worlds for her.  Sara hadn’t seen a lot of the Milky Way, but she had been frustrated by the lack of promotion in the Alliance. Her CO had made it clear she wasn’t going anywhere, not while she was the daughter of Alec “Robo-Ryder”.

In the end, she would go. She knew that much.

The woman next to her turned toward her, and Sara was her face for the first time. Green eyes, ruby red lips, generous but not far too much eye shadow – and a scar down her nose, one Sara had just seen on a ton of holo-news articles.

“I’ll have what she’s having.” The woman winked at her and smiled, and Sara’s heart began to pound.

 _Ho-leeey shit._ She glanced at Jake, who raised an eyebrow at her as he slid over the drink.

Sara opened her omni and tried to type as fast and surreptitiously as possible.

_Que-Sara-Sara: scott I am drinking with Commander god-damn Shepard_

_Scottie2Hottie: liar_

Sara groaned. Typical Scott. Something great finally happens to her, and all he could do is accuse her of lying.

“Problems at home?”

Sara looked over, startled. Commander Shepard was looking at her, a sly grin on her face. She looked like the cat who got the cream, which: hot.

“Sorry.” She turned off her omni as quickly as possible, then turned toward Shepard. “My brother. I told him I was drinking in the same bar as you and he’s calling me a liar. He always does this. Don’t worry.” She wrinkled her nose. “He’s a bit of an ass.”

“Hm.” Shepard opened her omni and leaned toward her. Sara’s heart-rate shot up as Shepard put an arm around her. “I think we can shut him up.”

Sara was, suddenly, immensely grateful that she hadn’t her SAM implant attached yet. The last thing she needed was yet another trace of her family popping up and reminding her that she was in way, way over her head. “Th-Thanks. I’ll owe you one.”  
  
“You can buy me a whiskey,” Shepard said, sweetly, and Sara gulped. “Ready?”  
  
“Uh, yeah.” She said, shifting closer. She put her arm around Shepard’s side, and Shepard put her free arm around Sara’s shoulder. Her face was ungodly close, and Sara could smell her: clean, sweet, with the lingering trace of burnt eezo and gun oil. Shepard put her omni in front of her and whispered, “Say cheese.”  
  
Sara put on her biggest, most shit-eatingest grin and pressed until she was cheek to cheek. “Mm. Eat _this_ , Scott.”

“That’s the kind of attitude I like.” Shepard flicked her omni as she shifted. Her lips landed on Sara’s cheek and she all but died and went to heaven. _Commander Shepard is kissing me_. She fouht every urge within her to turn her cheek so that she would be kissing the Commander on the lips.

The flash went off, and Shepard smiled at her. Oh yeah. That Cheshire grin was definitely going into her “Jilling time” box.

“What’s your digits?” Shepard asked.

She told her quickly, maybe too quickly. Shepard smiled and nodded.

“Oh, and for our deal - “ She glanced toward Jake, who was now tending to other clients. “Jake! A whiskey for Commander Shepard!”

He nodded, thankfully playing it cool. “Ice?”

“No,” Shepard grinned. “I like it warm, thanks.”

Jake slid the drink down the bar, and it landed next to Sara. That, she had little doubt, was a sign; she had been in this bar a million times and if there was one thing that Jake could do, it was slide drinks perfectly.

“Oops,” he said. If she didn’t know better, she could have sworn he winked.

“Looks like I got your drink,” Sara said. Her cheeks were burning bright pink, and she had little doubt that Shepard could see how flushed she was. _How embarressing_. At least she would be able to leave this detail out of the bragging sessions with Scott later.

“So you did,” Shepard said. Sara moved it toward her, but Shepard’s hand caught her own, her palm sliding against Sara’s in an unbelievably hot second. “Must be fate,” Shepard crooned.

“Uhm, yeah, I uh, wow. You are _good_ at this.” Sara winced as soon as she said it; she was babbling now. _Definitely_ not telling Scott about this one.

“I’m good at lots of things,” Shepard said, her smile pure, randy grace. “If you’d let me show you.”

Sara moved toward her a bit; she tried to think of a good come-back, a clever bon-mot to say she was interested, but language failed her, so instead she did what felt the most natural.

She moved forward, quick as a viper, and kissed Commander God-Damn Shepard full on the lips.

Shepard gave a throaty chuckle, which: hot. She deepened the kiss, her hands moving up Sara’s back, exposing a bit of flesh. _Hotter._ One finger poked at the waistband of her jeans, giving her _just_ enough access to feel Shepard’s hand caressing the divot of her ass. _Hottest._

Jake coughed. “Not that I’m not happy about your hook-up, Sara, but: this _is_ a diplomat hang-out and they don’t tend to like PDA.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like we should take this party on the road.”

“Where do you want to go?” She no longer had a home on the Citadel; dad had sold their apartment once mom...well, once it became clear the Ryder family no longer needed an extra place there.

“My Ship,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “The entire crew is on leave, so...”

“Hm,” Sara said, trying not to sound disappointed. “I mean, that’s fine, I just thought you wanted to go to a place where we could uh – _talk._ ”

“We can do more than talk.” Shepard smirked. “I’m captain. Got my own bed and everything.”

Sara, suddenly, desperately wished she could get promoted. She was damn tired of having a crick in her neck on every space-flight; even in the ground corps, she’d never gotten more than the thinnest cot, with the flimsiest stuffing imaginable. “Nice.”

“Perk of command.” Shepard pulled up a credit chit, then turned toward Jake. “What do I owe you?”  
  
“Heroes drink free.” He said with a smile. “Sara, I’ll put it on your tab.”

“Hey!”

“When you save the Citadel, you can get free drinks, too.”

She glared daggers at him for a moment, but then Shepard touched her shoulder and Ryder knew she had to _go_ or risk losing this chance. “Later, Jake.”

“Later,” he shouted. Shepard pulled her up out of her seat. Ryder had to almost run to keep up with Shepard’s stride; the other woman was taller, and had an urgent intensity about her.

Sara hoped she had an urgent intensity in other things too.

She walked back through the ship-yard in a daze; before she’d quite realized it, Shepard looked up, and Sara bit her lip to keep from gasping. The _Normandy. The ship that saved the Citadel._ She ran a hand along the side of it; the Normandy had lost a bit of her Alliance paint-job, presumably from fighting the gigantic Geth ship. _Battle-Scars_ , she thought, tracing one; the paint flickered against her and a light black soot stained her fingers. _Bad-Ass._

She heard a soft laugh behind her and turned back. “You remind me of my Captain,” She said, then strode toward the key-card. “He’s a bit in love with the ship, too.”

“Oh, I just - “She blushed.

“Fortunately, you’re a damn sight cuter,” Shepard said, and Sara felt her blush deepen down to her toes. 

Shepard opened the door and Sara tried to take even breaths, aware of her desire to want to ask about everything – how did the ship handle? Was it as invisible as people said it was? How had she found it to be as a battle-rig, this Frigate? Was Sara the first off-duty Alliance officer Shepard had invited into her bedroom, or was this a common occurrence?

“Are you coming?”  Shepard asked; she was standing in decontamination chamber, and Sara felt she had never seen anything as lovely in her life; her pale skin was light with an unearthly glow from the dim decontamination chamber lights.

“Not yet,” Sara retorted, trying to be cool. Shepard smiled, gently, and held out a hand; Sara took it, and barely had a moment to even see the ship as Shepard pulled her forward.

“Sorry, tour later.” Shepard said. “Right now - I need you all to myself. "

\- - -

Shepard woke up  well sated a few hours later. Sara was still sleeping next to her, no doubt thoroughly exhausted by the ...events... of last night. Shepard grinned and leaned forward, hacking into Sara's omni. It had been easy, and there was one final wrong she just _had_ to address, especially after Sara had given her such a _great_ night.

“Hi, this is Commander Shepard." She purred into the the microphone. "And Scottie2Hottie, your sister has the most amazing ass on the Citadel."


End file.
